


Of Dead Leaves and Christmas Rose's

by Bisexual_Fangirl_Forever



Series: Rainbow Tomato [19]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst and Feels, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bipolar Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Other, Sad, Well - Freeform, but there, i tried doing that anyway, it turned into more of a vent instead, its short, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27187019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bisexual_Fangirl_Forever/pseuds/Bisexual_Fangirl_Forever
Summary: Nathaniel is feeling the big sad TMORIm projecting sue me
Series: Rainbow Tomato [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623583
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Of Dead Leaves and Christmas Rose's

**Author's Note:**

> Dead leaves- Sadness
> 
> Christmas Rose- Anxiety
> 
> I got the meanings from here https://aggie-horticulture.tamu.edu/archives/parsons/publications/flowers/flowers.html

Flowers were blooming from his chest, slowly growing bigger and bigger each second. They curled around his wind pipe and made it hard to breath, going down to his stomach and making a knot. He could feel the pollen going up to his brain, telling him what to think. Them, going to his eyes to tell him what to see. Them, growing around his bones and forcing him to move. Nathaniel tried to keep the flowers from growing bigger, but he didn't know what to do. No recurrences from friends seemed to work, and drawing his feelings didn't work either. The plant was making him want to lay in bed and cry all day. Was this his anxiety or...something more?

The flowers continued to spread, making his legs move on his own. He, or the plant, moved across the apartment and made him sit down on his bed. Nath wanted to scream, to make his throat raw, but nothing came out. He instead fell backwards and onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Up there, it was painted like a galaxy, something he had done while on a "list day" (a day where he felt like he could do anything, he just had to put it on a mental list). He was whole those days,but now? He felt broken.

He watched the stars above him, yearning to be up there with them. The artist bet in space, the flowers in his chest wouldn't be able to grow. They would die off and leave the teen alone. He missed those days, where the flower wasn't there. Now, he felt highs and lows like no other. He talked too fast one day, but then too quiet the next.

  


After too long the boy ripped his head away from the ceiling and turned to his side, curling up into a ball. He was cold, shivering, but right now he had no energy to grab his blankets. He had no energy for anything, all of it spent both earlier that day, and the day before. Nath cursed as tears fell from his ducts and began to soak his pillow.

  


He wasn't sobbing yet, his shoulders weren't shuddering and his hands weren't shaking, but he could feel it coming. He could feel it coming from a mile away. He wanted to stop it, oh how he did, but how could he? He had nothing. Nobody to talk too without his anxiety stopping him, nobody to reach out too without feeling too dramatic or invalid. He had nobody

Maybe he should die. A part of him wanted to, but at the same time, didn't.

He had created countless plans, but he still didn't want to. It was like... he wanted to _almost_ do it. To _almost_ die, but not completely.

As the artist's tears fell down his face in salty tracks, he tossed and turned. His thoughts continued to be dark, and he wished it was a list day. He felt on top of the world then, like he could get anything done, like he was invincible. He wished it was one of those days. Oh how he fucking wished.

Nathaniel stayed in bed almost all day, his mother was at work so nobody was there to check in on him. Which... was good in a way. At least he didn't have to talk to anybody. Talk... about something he didn't know how to word. That he didn't know how to explain. That he didn't know....what is was exactly. He felt nothing but everything at the same time. He just didn't know how to explain it other than with flowers.

The flowers grew and the flowers stayed. The could stay for an hour, or for the rest of the night. Sometimes even dragging onto the next day as well. But... they did eventually wilt and die off, promising to come back again when he would be least expecting it.

But for now they were here, and they were intent on staying. And for now, Nathaniel was going to sit in bed and never get back up until they were gone.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Thorns](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28418226) by [Bisexual_Fangirl_Forever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bisexual_Fangirl_Forever/pseuds/Bisexual_Fangirl_Forever)




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